Just a Maggot
by Smitejr
Summary: Washing ashore without a memory or past, an alternate Avatar finds herself with a husk of a man reduced to janitorial duties for a pirate band. What does fate have in store for the unlikely pair? Gangrel/Female Avatar.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Well, here's my first attempt at fanfiction in years, and the ones before then I'd rather not speak of. I'm not sure why this pairing is what made me decide to try my hand at in again, (Or why I'm writing this pairing in the first place, I mean what) but plot ideas are plot ideas.**

**The fic takes place in the timeskip period between the Plegia and Valm arcs. Robin, the male Avatar, also exists, and is with Chrom following about evenly with canon.  
**

**The rating for the fic is T, mostly for violence.**

**I do not, nor likely ever will, own any characters from Fire Emblem.**

The waves crashed against the beachhead in a slow, rhythmic pattern. It was almost enough to lull the woman back to sleep. She was very, very tired...it seemed to her that she had been crushed beneath a great weight, and her only rest was plagued with nightmares. Strange, horrible images had conflicted in her mind until just now, and the chance to be rest while freed from them was not one she was willing to pass up easily. She probably would have fallen back asleep, if a rather discordant voice didn't pester her into consciousness.

"Another drowned bilge rat, eh? Looks like I'll have extra work to do. Just what I need...more trash to take out."

Her eyes blinked slowly, reluctantly, and she soon got a fuzzy image of the man standing above her. She could see a blurry movement, him shaking his head as he started to bend down. At first about the only thing she could tell about him was his red hair, but she could soon see that his face was twisted with disgust. His words made it clear that he thought she was dead...and she would probably need to dispel that illusion, or else he might throw her into the sea.

Surprise lights up on the man's face as she starts moving. "Ah, so you're not dead. Come on! Don't just lay there in the brine. I just threw out the chamber pots, it's filthy."

As her vision comes into focus, she can see that he's extending a hand out to her. She still doesn't move, her exhaustion is still pressing on her, and whether or not the water is filthy, it's calm, and cool, and so different than what the nightmare had been, she felt like she could just lay there forever.

"I don't have all day, you know. If you want to stew in the muck, just say so, and I'll be on my way. Just be quick about it!"

His insistence was grating...but it was a rather good motivation for doing what he said, if only to get him to stop nagging her. Maybe she'd have a chance to nap later. Still, for the moment, she forces her hand up, taking his, and finding herself pulled atop unsteady legs. The man who pulled her up doesn't really help her steady herself at all...too busy examining the hand he holds.

"Hmm? Is that...why, yes, I do believe it is. You and I might have something to discuss in the future...What's your name, girl? Are you of the Grimleal?"

Looking down, the woman looks to where he had been staring, and sees an odd mark...one that gives her an ominous chill just looking at. The man doesn't seem nearly as affected, but he certainly seems on-edge. He was right, she would need to ask him about it later. He might know something, and for the life of her, she couldn't remember anything...not even the answer to his question.

"I...my name...it's Kris..." She murmurs. "I don't...remember...maybe? What are the Grimleal?"

The man grimaces. "She can speak! And she has a name! She doesn't say anything of any significance, but it can be done!" Waving a hand, the man turns back to a wide-sailed wooden ship, less than a stone's throw away from their current location. "Let's hope you can remember the way back to the nearest settlement, eh? I can tell you right now you want nothing to do with the dastards I run with.

Wracking her brain in an attempt to remember something, anything, only one word seems to come to her mind. "Ylisse...am I in...Ylisse?" A face flashes through her mind, one that had been in the nightmare. A strong-looking man, one with blue hair...but no name came attached to it.

That provokes a reaction from the man, a visible twitch in his face. "No. You're not. And personally, if I never see another Ylissean in what's left of this sorry excuse for an existence, it'll be far too soon."

Shrinking back, Kris instinctively raises her hands I defense. "I-I see. Touchy subject. I'll...see if I can remember anything else."

Dismissing her with a wave, the man continues walking back to the ship. "Bah. Don't bother unless you can string at least three thoughts together. Until then, it's so much tripe." His walk slows, and he tilts his head down, considering. "There are wild beasts in the forest further inland. It's only slightly less safe where I'm headed, but...frankly, both options seem pretty dangerous for you. And neither am I in a position to care how you throw your life away."

Shaking her head, Kris walks resolutely towards the ship. "I can fend for myself." She begins to speak. "But I'll be no closer to remembering anything, and you seem to know a few things about me...like this mark."

Shaking his head, the man sighs, and begins walking. "Your funeral."

With that, the pair makes the short walk to the gangplank and once they're at the edge, the man turns back to her one last time. "Last chance, girl. If you do decide to test your luck with pirates, please try not to draw attention to yourself. Hopefully, if you can do that, you can keep your skin long enough to realize that this is a terrible idea, and run for the hills."

As they start to climb, they're stopped before they can board the ship by a thug dressed in furs. "Oy there, Maggot. Where've you been off to? The deck ain't gonna swab itself!"

A bunch of chuckling erupts from the assembled pirates, eager to gather and laugh at the resident bottom rung of the ladder. Obviously, though, the man who found her was used to this sort of treatment, and just shakes his head and tries to push past the throng. "I found this girl laying all but dead on the beach, Thrack. It seems she wants to join up. Not that she has anywhere else to go."

Kris makes an audible gulp. She hadn't considered just how bad things were, she'd been still lost in a haze of memory, and hadn't been thinking. It seems like now that could come back to bite her.

"Ha! Well, I'm sure we can find something for the pretty little thing to do...am I right, men?" The group breaks out into a fit of laughter. And while it's clear to her that some aren't quite as...into it as others, it's still thoroughly unnerving. The man the men seemed free to refer to as Maggot just turned around, and shrugged. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but he had warned her.

"Are you going to let us up? Or am I just going to have to sleep on the gangplank for the night?" He was obviously getting impatient with dealing with the gathered men, but they either didn't notice, or didn't think he was anything approaching a threat.

"Ah, hold your horses, Maggot. We're just joking around, is all. Come on aboard, you still have work to do. I'm sure the cap'n will have words about it later, though." Handing him a mop, Thrak lets them aboard, before he and the other crew-members return to their stations.

Rather than set to cleaning, though, Maggot walks down to the inward station on the ship. Following behind, she takes any chance she can to avoid being alone on deck. He wanders around the ship for a few moments, before he comes to a stop in front of a small container. Opening it, he reaches inside, and hands a scrub to her. "If you're working, the men will be slightly less likely to bother you. I still have some things to ask you once we're off duty, so I'd prefer if you avoid getting killed in the meantime.

Taking the scrub gladly, Kris reluctantly follows Maggot back onto the deck. She tends to work around the edges of the ship, always making clear she can stay away from the greatest number of pirates as she can. She isn't quite sure how she manages it, but the way to do that seems to just come clearly to her. She must have studied something like that...but she still can hardly remember anything beyond her name, so trying to piece the puzzle together is a fools errand. Maggot, on the other hand, tends to throw himself at the drudgery, moving around in an aimless pattern. Kris can tell just from looking at him that he's being grossly inefficient with his work, but she's too busy with her own challenges to try and help him. Trying to stay out of range of the men's leers is an impossible task, but she does it as best as she can without attracting undue attention to herself.

As the sun starts to set, Kris' arms ache, her skin burns, and all sorts of other discomforts that comes with long, hard work in the hot Plegian sun come to a fore. She's tired and sore, and right when she feels like she can't bring the soapy scrub across wood one more time, Maggot walks up to her.

"Time for food. Best get it quick, the edible portion is usually gone within a minute at most."

As they descend down into the ship, Maggot sighs at the line that's already formed in front of what passes for a cook and food aboard the pirate vessel. "Well, at least it's not as long as it could be. We might even manage to get a piece of meat that's only half-rotten."

Kris blanches. "Is-is it really that bad?"

Turning back, Maggot shrugs. "No, not really. It's actually a bit worse. But it shouldn't matter. Zanth isn't stupid enough to let his crew die of starvation. He's the type to keep us all close, keep us hungry, but he doesn't quite go all the way. Damn him if he isn't clever for it, though."

When they get their food, it turns out that Maggot was exaggerating more than a bit. The meat, while hardened into jerky and very salty, was perfectly edible. There was also a corn gruel, that, while rather bland and watery, was filling. Kris ate her portion gladly, while Maggot was more picky with his food, as if he was eating it under sufferance.

With supper finished, the crew begins to file into the below-deck hammocks, or up top to head out to the land camp. Kris immediately heads out, figuring that being on land, with more freedom of movement being very handy when forced to live with cutthroats and brigands. When she turns to leave, though, Maggot gives a sardonic snicker.

"What, are you insane? You're actually going to camp?"

Kris glares at him. "It's better than going below-decks. And it's not like I have any other choice...unless..."

Another thought comes into her mind, and she snaps her fingers. Maggot nods.

"Staying here is a pointless risk for you. You should be trying to find a way to somewhere halfway civilized. And seafaring vessels do tend to have maps aboard."  
Nodding, Kris begins walking, though Maggot stays seated. "Yes, but the maps would tend to be heavily guarded, as they're generally extraordinarily valuable. They'd be kept in a safe, or in the captain's cabin..."

"So you're willing to risk a knife in your back while you sleep, but not trying to read some musty old maps? What are you, some craven schoolgirl?"

Shooting Maggot a dirty look, Kris shakes her head. "There are risks to these things...but I can figure it out. I just need more information..."

Suddenly, a loud, booming voice echoes through the mess hall. "Well, what have we here."

A huge, imposing brute of a man steps in the door, men trailing behind him. Maggot gulps, and shakes his head, moving up to speak to him, making sure not to make any sudden movements.

"What are you talking about, Captain Zanth? I'm just showing our newest crew member around."

Kris balls her hands into tight fists, her knuckles growing white. If he heard...

"New crew member? I haven't heard anything of the sort, not until just now. Are you the person in charge of hirin', Maggot?"

Grimacing, he shakes his head. "No, captain. I'm not. I just thought-"

Zanth draws himself up. "I don't pay you to think, Maggot! I pay you to swab the deck, clean chamber pots, and occasionally get in a fight when you're not being a cowardly dog."

At that point, Kris has had about enough. "Captain Zanth, sir...It's not his fault. I'm-I'm willing to go, if you'll point me the way out to the nearest town. He saved my life..."

Barking laughter, Zanth turns to her. "Oh, don't worry about yerself, lass. I don't have any problems with ye. What I have problems with is Maggot here thinking he's free to go wenching when he needs to be working, and bringin' outsiders onto the ship without my permission. Aint that right, Maggot?"

Maggot grits his teeth, but nods, the motion creaky and forced. "Yes, Captain."

Zanth's grin widens, an expression that could be considered toothy if he wasn't short several of them. "And just what is the punishment for lollygagging and breachin' security?"

Maggot bares his teeth, but just sinks down. "Twenty...twenty lashes, Captain."

Zanth laughs cruelly. "Yer damn well right it is. Bring him up, boys. Let's show the Maggot what happens when people get uppity."

The assembled crew-members give a round of monosyllabic approval, while Kris tries to get in the way, but is constantly pushed away.

"Damn it, girl, can't you just take a hint?" Maggot mutters. It's clear he doesn't have any hope in whatever she could do to stop it.

"Now look here, lass. I like yer spirit, it's really nice and all. But I don't like having my authority challenged on my own ship, aye? The maggot's going to get his punishment whether or not you try an' interfere, the only thing that'll change is what happens with ye. So just calm your arse down, and wait all patient-like until it's done."

Backing down, Kris nevertheless follows the group up to the top deck, where the crewman from earlier, Thrack, ties Maggot down against a post.

"I reckon I rather like you, Maggot." Zanth call, mockingly. "Gods blood, it's the only reason I ain't had you keelhauled for all the insubordination you've given me all this time. But enough is enough, and I think you need to get a lesson in humility."

"Rot in hell, dastard." Maggot mutters out, anger unable to be hidden at this point as he struggles against the bindings.

"That's good!" Zanth laughs, mocking Maggot's harsh words. "I reckon there's a man hidden in that simpering craven that's the maggot we all know and love. Maybe the beating will help bring it out of you, aye?"

Kris can hardly bear to look, but can't bring herself away. Maggot was going to be punished for helping her...and she felt powerless to stop it. She knew instinctively that she couldn't let it happen, that it wouldn't be like her to let it happen...no matter who it was. So it came as a surprise, when she felt her hands moving on their own, and words coming unbidden to her lips.

"Time to tip the scales!"

With that, she raises a hand, and a vortex of wind blasts at the man Zanth had chosen to execute the punishment. Knocked back by the force of the gale, he strikes the main mast _hard, _and with a dull thunk, slips to the ground, unconscious. With that, the rest of the men turn away from Maggot, and draw their weapons on her.

"You really shouldn't have done that, lass."

**Author's Note: Sorry for ending things on a cliffhanger like that, but that just seemed like an appropriate endpoint for things. Reviews are always appreciated, and I hope to have the next chapter up fairly soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Well, first off, big thank you to those of you that reviewed the story. Thanks for all the praise! I was a bit nervous about getting back into writing, but I feel a bit more confident now. Also, I want to keep the update schedule fast, but I'm staying up way too late on this, and I might be getting more obligations. I'm definitely not going to let things get below a week per update without warning, but things might happen.**

**I don't own Fire Emblem or it's characters. If I did, I'd be pushing for Chrom and Lucina in 3DS/WII U Smash Bros.**

"You shouldn't have done that, lass..." Maggot mutters despondently. He knew Zanth, and what he knew told him that he wouldn't take his men getting attacked easily at all. As it was, he'd hardly gone out of the ship for twenty minutes, and he was already about to get whipped. Then again, he felt Zanth had it out for him especially, so maybe she'd get off with some lesser punishment.

He didn't put much stock in that idea, though.

The pirates didn't take well to it at all, and they made no attempts at hiding that fact. "Looks like we have a traitor, men!" "Let's get 'er!" "I'm gonna to sink my ax in yer throat!"

Zanth, however, didn't speak up, and his silence made Kris very uneasy...would he let the crew themselves sort out what to do? Or was he just making her sweat? It's a good ten seconds before he starts to speak, and when he does, it's with a huge guffaw."

"Gya-har! Looks like you got more stones in ye then Maggot here ever will! I dunno why you put yerself on the spot like that fer a spineless worm like him, but I can appreciate gumption when I see it."

Kris relaxes slightly, though she's still very wary. One misstep and she could be on the whipping post herself, or worse. She's not out of the fire yet, nowhere close.

Zanth paces slightly, stroking the stubble on his chin as he considers. "Still, ye've assaulted me men, and that carries consequences. Crew or no, I'm not the kind of man that'll take that one lying down. GRAB HER, MEN!"

With a whooping cry, the men descend on her. There wasn't much of anything she could do, she tries to jump overboard, but the men, grab hold of her arms, clothes, and hair, and drag her back in front of the captain, restrained. She didn't even try to use the tome again, there were way too many people for that to work, escape was her priority, and as she'd try and blast one person, another would have gotten her for sure. Looking up at Zanth, she waits to hear what he has to say.

Now that she's restrained, Zanth continues talking in an easy tone. "Now then, I told ye already. Maggot's gonna get his no matter what ye'd do. The only thing left to consider is what I'm gonna do with you, for acting like a blamed fool."

Kris struggles slightly against her captors, but they don't let her budge. It's a futile gesture, but it's one she intends to make regardless. She's not going to take this lying down.

"Hmm...I think I know just the thing!" Zanth says, missing teeth glinting in the night as he grins. "Old Hobson here..." Zanth begins, poking the unconscious man with a boot. "He was going to be headin' up the vanguard on our next raid. Poor chap, he was, pulled the lowest straw, you see. Way I see it, that means you're gonna be taking his place."

Kris stops struggling, and looks up with a hint of incredulity. That's it? That's all that's going to happen to her? The pirates, on the other hand, are giving a cheer, and Maggot just lets out a grunt. What was she missing here?

Reaching down to Hobson's unconscious form, Zanth grabs the whip that still lay in his hand. "Now be a good girl, and watch closely. This here is how heroism is rewarded on my ship.

* * *

"So first you have me take five additional lashes, and now you're going to prevent me from sleeping it off by pestering me. I'm so thrilled I pulled you out of the brine."

Once the punishment session had concluded, the men dragged the two of them to the camp. She'd been given the tools to make her own tent, and had already done so. But now, she had Maggot laying down on the lice-ridden rag she refused to dignify with the title "blanket". His shirt was off, revealing the horrible welts that marked his skin. A fire was lit a few feet away, with a pot set on it.

Reaching down to a pot of saltwater that lay on her lap, Kris petulantly splashes his back with it, eliciting a snarl of pain.

"Gah! That stings, damn you. What possessed you to go and do something like that?"

Glaring at him, Kris reaches over and pokes him on the arm. "Because you're moving when you should be staying still. I need to wash the wound and try to bandage them."

Maggot snorts derisively at that. "With what water? We're miles from the nearest stream. Are you really going to waste our drinking water ration on something like that? Just leave it to rot."

Kris splashes him again. "Does that feel like freshwater to you? Now, stay still. We can't let you open up any of those welts."

"You're going to wash my wounds with saltwater? Are you a madwoman?" Maggot tries to get up, but Kris pushes him down on the cot.

"I'd do that if we have no other choice, but fortunately, we do." Getting up from beside Maggot's blanket, Kris walks over to the boiling pot. Instead of a lid, it's covered by an old shirt. Taking the pot over, Kris replaces it with the other saltwater pot. Taking the now very damp shirt, she gingerly washes the wound.

"I'm making my own freshwater. The salt doesn't travel with the water when it turns to steam, and the shirt catches it before it can release into the air."

Kris does the best she can with what she has, but she knows that it's not going to be the best work possible. She'd kill for some soap, but that was in very short supply in the pirate camp. She saw some back on the ship, in that cleaning shed...she'd try to take some with her the next chance she could.

Maggot, on the other hand, is happy with things as they are now. Letting out a sigh of relief, he relaxes on the blanket. "Ahhh, that's better. Rather clever of you, I wouldn't have thought of it. Pity you'll be dead within the week, or I could see what other clever things you might think up." A mirthless laugh follows his words, and Kris' eyes widen in surprise.

"D-Dead?"

Eyes narrowing, Maggot turns slightly to look at her. "You didn't honestly think that you were left off with only some new assignment, did you?"

Kris rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. "Well, he also hit you more..."

"Don't remind me." Maggot snaps at her, before explaining further. "In any case, Hobson was treated as a dead man walking among the pirates for a while now. Being assigned to vanguard in a hit-and-run raid on a large Plegian harbor will do that to you." Cackling, Maggot finishes "Getting knocked out on his rear end by you was the best thing that happened to him in weeks!"

Kris takes a deep breath to try and steady her nerves. If Maggot was trying to unnerve her with his laughter...he was succeeding. When she feels calm enough to think about this, she tries to organize her thoughts. "Have you ever been there? Any information on what we're dealing with would be invaluable." She begins to dress Maggot's wounds with bandages made from old rags. Keeping her hands busy helps her think.

Maggot is silent for a moment, before nodding. "Yes, I have. It's been...quite a long time, but I don't see any reason for it to have changed overmuch. I take it you're trying to come up with some sort of plan to stave off your punishment?" Not even trying to mask the condescension in his voice, he breaks into another fit of mirth. "It could work, you're a smart girl. Maybe you'll think of something, never know until you try...and get a sword in your gut for your trouble."

Glaring at him, Kris reaches down to the saltwater again. Realizing that in addition to the stinging salt, this one was cooling down from a roiling boil, Maggot shuts his trap. "Well, the town we're going to sack is called Rubiripe. It's a terraced harbor, built into a rather steep slope. The fort is built up near the top, so Zanth thinks we'll have time to get in and loot before the main host arrives. However, they also tend to have a smaller fortification near the beach, so the vanguard," Maggot pokes Kris. "That's you, by the way, will still face a rather nasty set of teeth."

A light begins to blink in Kris' head. An idea is forming, and she can't afford to lose the trail. "Terraces, you say? How are they designed? And what is the garrison force's composition going to look like."

Maggot smirks. "Have an idea, do you? Well, the town is designed with multiple layers. Each terrace is a good twenty feet above the other, with the ways up kept to a minimum to keep raiders like us from reaching too high. Zanth is counting on that also delaying reinforcements from coming down, allowing us to loot the ships by the lowest level. The troops will mostly consist of axemen and swordsmen, with a few pikemen thrown into the mix.

As he'd been talking, Kris pulls on the bandages one last time, tying them securely. "Really...no archers or magi?"

Maggot nods. "Plegia is a desert country by the vast majority, so places lush enough to have forests are usually cut down and turned into farms. Without trees, pike handles and bows and arrows are rather difficult to make, and pike handles are far more efficient. We have archers in the army, but that's usually done with bone, either enchanted or splintered from the Fell Dragon. As for the lack of magi...most of them live in Castle Plegia, where they hold services on the Dragon's Table. After the war with Ylisse, the populations of both were rather decimated, so they're far too valuable to waste on mere garrison duty."

Kris can't keep the look of surprise off her face. She hadn't expected nearly that much information from him. And there was that place she'd brought up earlier, that provoked a hostile reaction from him. Ylisse...did he fight against them? "You...speak as if from experience. You wouldn't have happened to be part of the Plegian army at some point...fighting against the Ylisseans...were you?"

Maggot goes deathly silent for several seconds, and when he speaks, his words are icy. "I thought we were trying to find out how you're going to survive the week, not prying into my affairs. How's about we keep things to the former, hmm?"

Raising her hands in surrender, Kris lets out a sigh. "It was worth a try. Sorry."

Maggot gives a derisive snort, but eventually nods. "Whatever. Any plans brewing up in that nosy little head of yours? Or are you just going to try and dig into me while you have me tied down here?"

Ignoring his verbal jabs, Kris nods. "I think I do, yes. It'll be risky...and I'm going to need to count on your help, but I think I can do it. That is...if you're willing, of course."

Kris takes out a pungent-smelling clay pot from the folds of her cloak, capped with a lid to keep it's contents from spilling.. "Here. Drink this. Now that I got the wounds dressed, this should stave off infection and speed the healing process."

Maggot tries sitting up several times, before finally working up enough momentum to get himself up without breaking down in pain. "I know what a vulnerary is, thank you very much. Gods if you don't get insufferable sometimes." Taking the pot, he removes the lid, and downs it in one gulp, distaste showing once it's done. "You know, I'd have been willing to pay a king's ransom for someone to find a way to make those damn things taste better."

Maggot's plight didn't rate high on Kris' lists of concerns at the moment, however. "Can...can I count on you for this? I could try to do it on my own, but I'm not sure I could manage it. And I know for sure that no one else on this ship is willing to tag along for this..."

"Meh. I suppose so." Maggot says, shrugging. "I mean, it is win-win for me. If your crazy scheme works, we should be in better standing with Zanth. And if it fails, well...death is getting more and more welcoming to me by the day."

"Well, that's the spirit." Kris mutters. She doesn't want either of them to die...and if her plan works, then neither of them will have to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: And what I tried to insure would not happen ended up taking place. I'm sorry for the wait, a lot of stuff piled up in a distressingly short amount of time, and I had to sort things out there. The upload rate might end up taking another hit as I sort through things, but I'll try to keep it as fast as possible. Beyond that, huge thanks to those who review. You keep up my excitement for writing this thing, and it's always nice to find them.**

**I don't own Fire Emblem or its characters.  
**

Chapter 3

Rubiripe Harbor was a bustling port town in the heat of day. Ships lined up, unloading goods from all corners of Plegia and beyond, stores hawking wares from across the kingdom, and people set to work, running or supporting the many enterprises that made their home there. However, it's traffic wasn't so immense that it continued late into the night. When the sun started to set on the beautiful bay, people quickly said their goodbyes and made their way home. Some lingered to view the glimmering sunset on the ocean ripples, but most had homes to get back to, and other duties they have to fulfill. And among the few people remaining on the lower terraces, was a cloaked pair.

"Okay, we're in. Now what, oh masterful tactician?"

Giving a slight "Hmm" at the word, Kris smiles. "Tactician, huh? I kind of like the sound of that." Maggot grumbles in response.

Their entry into the town had been fairly uneventful. They'd forgone a seaward approach, and simply traveled on the country roads. The guard at the city gates wasn't exactly unwelcoming, and had let them in without incident.

"He should be expecting the rendezvous soon. If you don't have anything, Zanth will be coming in without our signal. And I most sincerely doubt he will be happy."

Frowning slightly, Kris fingers a few pouches she has in the folds of her cloak. "I'm ready...or as ready as we'll ever be. I prepared a few tricks before we left...hopefully, it'll be enough to get us through." Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she continues. "You know what we're doing...Maggot." Kris says, as she picks up a rather heavy bucket, filled with a thick, black liquid. She still wasn't sure if it was okay to call him that. The other pirates seemed to call him by that name on a consistent basis, and while he didn't seem to enjoy it, he hadn't been quick to put forward a different name. He doesn't voice any opposition to her using it.

Maggot takes another bucket, and heads off. Kris lifts hers with a grunt, and takes it to the nearest staircase. Slathering the thick mess over the stone, and leaving one of her pouches next to it, Kris heads on through, careful not to get any on her feet. Doing the same to the next one, she continues without incident, the messy glop seeming to bubble on the still-hot stones.

However, before she can reach the third and final staircase of the terrace, she encounters a guard. Cursing inwardly as she approaches, she tries to consider her options.

"...Miss? Might I ask what you're still doing out? That's a lot of tar you've got there..."

Kris can feel her heart sink. Tar was a common enough substance on the docks, enough that she was fairly easily able to get refills after lining the first two staircases. It was used rather frequently to caulk seafaring vessels, as well as to help line rooftops to keep rain from leaking in. However, she was indeed carrying a rather conspicuous amount...enough to use the flammable petroleum like she intended. However...she knew that the easiest way to do something illegal was to pretend you had every right to do it.

"What's the problem, sir? I'm just bringing this pitch up to fix my roof. Gonna have to patch up the thatching, I feel a storm coming."

The soldier considers briefly. "I don't reckon I've seen you around before. What's your name?"  
Kris hesitates, and curses herself inwardly for doing so. In this situation, there wasn't any reason to withhold the truth. It wasn't like she was planning on staying... "Kris, sir. Please, may I be on my way?"

The town guard grabs her hand, causing the bucket to drop. "I don't think so, 'Kris.' You're coming with..."

His voice trails off, as his gesture gives him a free view of the mark on her hand. "You're..." me manages to get out, before Kris shoots a fireball from her free hand, grazing his face and delivering harsh burns. All he manages to voice is a pained cry, before he slumps on the ground.

Dusting herself off quickly, Kris grabs up the bucket. Some had spilled out, though thankfully, more than half managed to stay inside. "Not as much as I hoped for...but it'll have to be enough." She can tell instantly that after that cry, she won't have enough time to go refill it. Even as she speaks, soldiers begin to flow out of the fort, though she has enough time to prime the final staircase before they get anywhere near her. She also spares a moment to grab the guardsman's sword. She feels her magic might not prove sufficient...and for some reason or another, she feels she can wield it effectively.

As the soldiers cross the beachfront terrace, they look up at her, and see the fallen soldier. Several soldiers look positively green, and look like they want to throw up. Others have more common reactions. "Let's get that bitch, men! Yah!" Their cries seem to blend together as they all charge up the staircase.

Kris doubles back from the staircase, then waits until several soldiers begin their ascent. Once she's sure it's the opportune moment, she shoots a fireball...not at any of the men, but at the pouch she left close to the staircase. The oil inside the pouch explodes, and ignites the tar, causing the several men who braved the staircase to burst into flames, quickly consuming them in the inferno.

The men start falling back, and move towards the other staircases, hoping to make their ascent there. They're generally more careful than they were back at the first one, hoping not to catch themselves in a blast. Their care is rewarded, as when Kris shoots another fireball at the staircase, only an unlucky few who found their feet stuck in the glop were caught in the flame. After that spectacle, they outright ignored the final staircase, and retreated back to the fort.

Sparing one fireball to ignite the last stairwell, Kris begins to harass the retreating men with a barrage of elemental magic. She didn't know when she was going to be able to restock on magic tomes, so she decided to save the numerous applications fireballs could have for later, mostly using cutting wind magic. However, as she focused on the retreating men, she missed a formation of guardsmen with throwing axes, and pays for it when one strikes her on her flank.

Dipping low to the ground and clutching her injury, Kris breathes heavily. "Ahh...I...I misread the situation." she groans to herself, trying to make herself a difficult target as she reaches back into the folds of her cloak. "Got...got careless." Pulling out a vulnerary, she begins to unseal the lid on the enchanted medicine. However, before she can bring the cup to her lips, her wounds begin to stitch themselves up on their own accord.

"Well, that was certainly a stupid thing to do." Maggot laughs, healing stave in hand. "Still, kept that axe away from me, so go ahead and do it again!"

Kris rolls her eyes at him, but smiles once she finishes standing back up. "Good to see you too.

Mood darkening, Maggot looks out to sea, impatience clear on his face. "Well, you might as well do a bit more of it, if you want. If Zanth and his lackeys don't hurry up, neither of us will be alive to see anything for very much longer."

The ill news comes as a surprise to Kris. "They...they should be here any moment now. The fires were supposed to be the signal..." Thinking things through, Kris shakes her head. "We have to buy them more time, then, we can't give up hope. The guards will be bringing up ladders, we have to delay them as long as possible."

* * *

Without a clear sign of assent, Maggot goes off on his own again. Finding a ladder being placed, he waits until the first man gets to the top, before stabbing them in the head, and pushing the ladder down with a kick. However, as he does so, he presents a clear target, and a javelin strikes his cloak, narrowly missing his body. However, momentum still pulls him down to the ground with a thud.

"Well...that's about enough of that." he mutters, winded, but uninjured in everything besides his pride. He barely felt that...he didn't exactly have much of it to go around.

Standing back up, Maggot reaches down to his belt, and pulls up a wickedly curved golden blade. So curved, and made of such a soft metal, that any rational observer would find it laughably ineffective in any real fight. And if it was intended to be a cutting weapon, then they would be perfectly correct.

Holding his Levin Sword aloft, Maggot calls down a bolt of lightning, then another, then another. To the soldiers, unused to such a weapon, it must have seemed like divine punishment as the lightning struck down the men with tomahawks and javelins.

"Dance for me, worms! Hahaha!" Maggot crows, as the men fall to the lightning, and the remaining men run for the hills.

"You damned cowards! I'll have you all whipped 'til you're raw!" a man in heavy armor, sitting upon a horse calls. He proceeds to hurl harsher expletives as he raises a hurling spear at him.

Maggot laughs, cruelty clear in his voice. "Ah, so you're the leader then. Exeunt!" Another bolt of lightning descends upon the commander, piercing through his heavy armor effortlessly, striking him dead.

He was ecstatic. It had been so damn long since people had treated him as something to be feared, someone to be respected. He had lived as a gutter rat for most of his life, until opportunity allowed him to make something greater of himself...and he had taken back to the old way of life far more easily than he'd have liked. But this...this was like he was his old self again...

And it was all thanks to Kris. Her and her strategy.

Maggot considers that for a moment, before getting jolted out of his reflection by the lady herself calling him. Looking back in her direction, he lets out a curse. One of the three staircases to the third terrace had been lit as well, his own handiwork.

"You got that one, good. Did you get the other two?" Kris asks, panting slightly. She was visibly tiring.

With a groan, Maggot nods. "Yes, but we haven't time. We'd be better off just jumping now...the lowest terrace's men got themselves thinned up nicely." The sounds of fighting pick up again, and Maggot let's out a crow of laughter. "And the cavalry's come! Let's join up with them, eh?"

Kris shakes her head, and breaks off in a run. Lighting the second staircase, she doesn't hesitate for a moment before continuing her race to the last stairwell. "No...I have to get the fires lit! Otherwise...the people..."

Shock is clear on his face as he runs up to her. "You...you're risking your life, pointlessly, I might add, for a bunch of people that would gut you as soon as greet you? How...disgustingly noble. May I vomit now?" He hasn't seen a display that even vaguely resembled this one since...since his position was quite different. A look of exhaustion crosses his face. "Can't you just do the sensible thing for once?"

Kris just points down at the pirate gang, who had since finished cleaning up what was left of the forward outpost. "Go ahead...I'll catch up."

Maggot spits on the ground, shaking his head vehemently. "And then get myself executed for cowardice. No thanks."

"Then keep up!" Kris calls behind her, not slowing down.

Snarling in annoyance, Maggot follows her until they approach the last staircase. Unlike the others, this one has soldiers fully arrayed beneath it, ready to defend the portal. Kris shoots a fireball to ignite it, but enough men are beneath it that it's more a gesture than anything else...no men were currently on the staircase to get caught in the blast.

One of the men, obviously the leader, in heavy, ornate armor, addresses Kris. "You know, I kind of expected someone a bit more threatening when I look at all this trouble. I'm thinking I'll toss you alive on one of your own damn fires...see if you like having a taste of your own medicine! And I know damn well that you won't stay alive long in General Varth's city...My city! Men! Take her down!"

With a war cry, the assembled soldiers charge at Kris. Despite her efforts to ready a tome, the men are too quick to close the distance. Kris readies her sword to parry a blow against her. As she moves to block the axe-men's strike, her sword almost moves of its own volition, parrying the axe in such a way that her blade lodges itself between the axe head and the handle. With a good yank, the axe goes flying out of the man's hands, and she follows through with a stab through his gut.

Maggot, meanwhile, is back to fighting with his knife, and seems to step right through a man, a step on his foot to distract him, an elbow to the gut to get him on his knees, and a fatal blow to wrap things up. However, by the time he does so, the General himself has moved in, lance thrusting at to this, she blocks the haft with the flat of her blade, and slides in close, tome at the ready this time. Blasting him with a harsh gale from close range, the wind magic rips through his armor. "Now!" she calls, and Maggot obliges, Levin Sword striking the general with a blast of lightning.

The remaining men, go into a frenzy. Maggot takes one look at the situation, and pulls Kris away, and off the terrace ledge. Kris, surprised and resisting, can still tell that a haphazard fall could easily result in serious injury, so she jumps down with land with a loud thud, the fall almost twenty feet tall. If they'd been any less careful, or wearing any heavy armor, they'd have been sprawled out in pain on the ground.

"Now what did you go and do that for?" Kris shouts at him. The men were still up there, and they were still a threat.

Maggot just shrugs. "You got your staircases lit, and they were starting to surround us." Sarcasm begins to drip off his mouth as he continues. "Surely your great analytical mind could tell you what the best thing to do in that situation was."

Kris sighs. "I'd have rather finished them and checked on the fire's strength, but you're probably right. In any case...thanks. Let's meet up with the crew.

General Varth manages to get back to his feet, obviously unsteady. The lightning bolt hadn't been enough to finish him after all...but it was close.

"Come on, men, what are you doing! Quit lollygagging, and get her!"

Some men follow his order immediately, and wind up groaning in pain on the ground as their armor drags them to painful falls. The remaining armored soldiers on top, obviously unwilling to go.

The lightly armored axe-men, though, manage to make the landing about as well as Kris and Maggot. However, when they start moving, they're greeted by a horde of excited pirates, with Zanth leading them.

"Yar har! Turns out that lass was a good find after all! Let's pick off the stragglers, and help ourselves to the ships!"

The remaining guardsmen were rather quickly taken out, and the pirates were not quick to leave. However, Kris' fires accomplished their second objective admirably. As well as keeping the Plegian forces away...they also limited the raid to the lowest level. And while a ton of goods were stolen from the shops and merchant ships, the residential district remained untouched.

Throughout this time, though, the full force of the Plegian garrison started to assemble itself, and they started setting up ladders down. Instead of trying to hold off against them, Zanth calls for a retreat.

"We've got what we came for, men! Let's set sail for the Sea-King's Throne! We've got a lot of loot to parcel out, so I reckon we have our work cut out for us!"

After a hasty loading by the crew, Zanth and his crew, Maggot and Kris included, set off from Rubiripe Harbor, leaving behind a gruesome spectacle for the townsfolk of Rubiripe to clean up.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Stuff happened. I ended up being strapped for ideas, and brainstorming wasn't working. That still doesn't explain the ridiculously long delay, but I hope it'll be less than before. I'm going to be smarter this time and not make promises, though.

I don't own Fire Emblem, or it's characters.

* * *

Aversa was not a happy woman right now.

Looking over at the man in front of her, a trite, blustery fellow who liked to think himself a general. Someone with power, someone that has a mastery of her fate. Filled with foolish, erroneous beliefs that she would tear down, one by one.

"So, General Varth. You managed to allow mere pirates to sack the town, a clear dereliction of your duty as the head of the garrison. And not only that, you allowed several newly completed ships to be put to the torch. Correct me if I am mistaken, but was it not merely three days hence when King Validar personally instructed you that ships are to be held as Plegia's most valuable resource, only second to the lives of it's people? Please, could you be a dear and explain this disconnect to me? Because from what I can see, you're a dismal failure who deserves little more more than shoveling horse manure in His Majesty's stables for the remainder of your sorry existence."

Varth doesn't respond verbally, he just squirms as he stands. Aversa takes advantage of his indecisiveness to twist the knife even deeper. "Oh come now, be a little cheerful. If Gangrel was still running things, you'd be a smear on the wall." Okay, maybe she was a bit happy. It was always a treat to be the master of someone's fate, to have total power over another human being. But when that was measured against how angry Validar was at hearing the news...well, she would take this pitiful excuse for a man and reduce him to nothing as recompense.

The poor general, on the other hand, was sweating buckets inside his armor, for reasons far afield of the blazing Plegian sun. His life was being decided in front of him, he needed to say something, anything to get that damn woman's gaze away from him, or he'd lose everything he'd worked so hard to gain. One didn't get far in the Mad King's army without stepping on a few hundred others. But...no words would come to him. He had nothing.

Aversa lets out a sardonic laugh. "Nothing to say? Well, I suppose we're done here then. Guards, take him a-

"It was that damn Ylissean tactician! The rats weren't content with taking our gold, they want to push for the rest of us!"

The outburst takes Aversa by surprise, and she quickly scans the room trying to find the origin of it. Soon enough, she finds a guardsman, leaning against the side of the wall. He was dressed in the standard soldier's tunic...but bandages wrapped all around his face save his eyes. What little could be seen was blackened by horrific burns. "That bitch blasted me in the face with a damn fireball...and didn't have the decency to check if I was dead! I'll kill her the second I see her again, I'll-"

Aversa snaps her fingers at the man, interrupting his tirade. "Do be quiet. I don't like dealing with raving lunatics. I've done enough of that to last a lifetime. If you won't be silent, I'll be forced to silence you...personally."

The man takes a breath, forcing himself to calm down. He's getting a better read on the situation...He'd heard of the things she'd done, but such stories weren't exactly uncommon in Gangrel's army. After making sure he was steady, he tried to speak once more. "Dearest apologies, ma'am, but I'm speaking the truth. The Ylissean Tactician was here, and she was the one that led the charge of those damned privateers!"

Rolling her eyes, the dark sorceress motions for the guards. "Robin is a male, half-wit. Get him out of my sight."

The injured guard cries out for his life, as the Plegian guards head out to incarcerate him. "That can't be true! I saw that mark of hers...his...on her hand! Just like they told us, all those damn eyes! We'd heard about it...Gangrel set a huge bounty on whoever had that mark back when I was out fightin! It has to be him...her...ah!"

Aversa raises a hand sharply, and the guards stop in their tracks. "You say another person has the mark of G...has that mark? Impossible."

The guard shakes his head frantically, thoroughly frightened. "I swear on my life, ma'am. It was that tactician...or at least, it was her mark."

"His mark." Aversa insisted, but begins to tap a sharpened nail on her cheek, thinking. "But...if another one with the mark does exist, it certainly bears investigation. After thinking for a few scant moments, she turns to the guard and smirks. "You will remain here, within the city. If nothing comes up from the search, or if you are found missing, we will round you up and sacrifice you upon the Dragon's Table. You are dismissed."

The poor, abused soldier drops down to the floor, as if someone had let go of puppet strings that were previously holding him up. He begins to sob, his breaths growing labored and choked.

Turning to Varth, Aversa sighs. "Well, I suppose if it was Robin...or some other person with that mark that was responsible for this, it had to have been fate. I'll leave your judgment to be the same as that miserable wreck over there."

Varth gulps audibly. "Y-Yes ma'am. Whatever pleases you."

Grinning, Aversa steps outside the door, and mounts her black pegasus. "Of course. That's how it always is."

* * *

At the Sea-King's Throne, the island was one huge party. The riches from last week's raid were still plentiful, they made more on that haul then they knew what to do with, for the time being. Sure, they'd eventually get the ships ready to sail to a friendly harbor and get some real use out of that gold, but for now, it stood there, glinting magnificently. And they had managed to do it with no casualties, something none of them had expected. The Captain's discretionary cut of the loot was massive, and when combined with the second ship they had "liberated" from Rubiripe Harbor, they were just about whatever plans they had for the future.

"Yar har! This is the life, eh boys? Who'd have thought Maggot would do something useful for a change?" The pirate chief was beside himself with glee, gold piled up around his chair like some majestic throne. The men laugh along with Zanth's words, but they don't share his mirth. Each of them feels more like kicking themselves for not being the one to bring the mysterious, talented Kris aboard.

Several meters away, in a secluded glen, a sardonic laugh sounds. "Guess they forgot all about those lashes, hmm?" The husk of a man himself grumbles. "Ah well, past is past. Can't start with regrets, or it just snowballs like crazy, gets out of hand." Taking a swig of the rapidly-depleting wine that Zanth had parceled out to his crew to celebrate, he turns to Kris, shrugging. "You're doing quite well for yourself among this rabble now, aren't you? I've heard Zanth wants to make you captain of the new ship, set himself up as a commodore. A bunch of insipid self-congratulation, but what more can you expect?" Maggot looks back down at his cup with distaste...soon he'd be back to drinking the diluted swill Zanth called grog.

Taking a more measured sip, Kris furrows her eyebrows. "It's going better than I ever thought it would...but it never could have happened without you. So thanks." Smiling, she continues. "And your certainly doing better yourself. Not exactly on chamber pot duty anymore."

Maggot grunts, unwilling to have his mood brightened. "Yes, I suppose I'm not. Still not like that means much to me. I'm still no less dead than I was before, and I'm not going to get that way anytime soon, not with these fools gamboling around like drunken monkeys."

Kris frowns at him. "I take it the circumstances that drive you to your round of self-pity is off limits? Because right now, I'm starting to think that you're just fishing around for a reason to feel miserable.

Laughing, Maggot leans down on the sand. "Well...I suppose I am. Still, it's not exactly something that can be shared. I'd imagine a whole slew of people would be lining up to take a whack at my head if I revealed myself and word got out."

Folding her arms, Kris can't help but see the glaring inconsistency in his words. "Isn't that what you want, though? To be dead? Wouldn't a ton of people trying to kill you accomplish that rather easily?"

That quiets Maggot, and for several long moments, he doesn't have anything to say. Soon enough, though, he shrugs his shoulders, and lets out a sigh. "I suppose you're right. I don't really want to just die...I want the death I was supposed to have. That grand, climactic death, from the fight that would shape the course of the continent! The one that fate stole from me by making that damnable Falchion cut too shallow!"

With a groan, Kris clutches her head in her hands. That word...Falchion, was stirring her memory like a melting pot. She knew that word, she knew it was important, but why?

"Oh? Is something wrong? Perhaps you should lay off the wine..." Maggot jokes, but he eyes her somewhat suspiciously.

Kris shakes her head. "No...no, I'm fine." Laying off thoughts on Falchion for the moment, she sighs. She doesn't know enough about what is going on in the world, no memory of climactic battles or important swords, nothing that could help her put together the pieces to the puzzle she had been given. Still, it was becoming fairly obvious that her friend had once been fairly high ranking in an army, but beyond that, she couldn't say. "Hmm...I'm afraid I wouldn't know about any climactic battles around here..." she mutters, hoping to wrest a bit more information out of Maggot.

He is, however, rather uncooperative. "Ha! How incredibly astute of you! Do you honestly think I'd have told you as much as I did if I didn't know that?"

Kris flinches "Umm...yes?"

Maggot rolls his eyes. "Oh come on...well, you can probably fill in the blanks by talking to the other crew members. That is, if they've picked their noses up from their behinds long enough to get a slight inkling of what's been going on in the world. Or, you know, you could just leave my past be..." He begins to cackle to himself, as if he'd just told a great joke that only he could understand. "But really, who'd be crazy enough to do something like that?"

Starting to feel rather uncomfortable around the cackling pirate, Kris heaves a sigh and stands up, brushing herself off. "I...think I'll try that. See you later M-Friend."

She didn't like the idea of calling him Maggot, even if she was growing used to it. Despite his unwillingness to give her something more reasonable to call him, it just felt wrong. If it wasn't for him, she'd be dead twice over. Despite his...less than stellar personality on occasions, that had to count for something.

Maggot glances an eye up at her, registering her decision, before lazily shooing her away with a gesture. "Whatever. Go on ahead. I'll probably convince myself to consort with the knuckle-draggers soon enough."

With a nod, Kris heads off. As she enters the main pirate compound, Zanth takes notice of her presence first. "Well! If it aint the star of the show 'erself! C'mon lads, hand her some wine!"

The pirates comply quickly. Zanth made it clear to everyone what his intentions for the second ship were, and they all wanted the opportunity to ingratiate themselves with the woman who might end up as their new captain.

Kris grimaces, but tries to put up with it. She is decidedly uncomfortable with being fussed around like this, a fresh bottle of wine opened up, a cup is poured out, all the while taking many more pirates than such a function requires. "Umm...thank you." She says, taking the cup gingerly.

Zanth munches on a leg of turkey meat, and spits out a bit of cartilage he had bitten off. "Come on now, lass, you look like you just got tossed up by the brine. Liven up a bit, eh? We've all got ourselves a nice, cozy future in front of us, and with you drawin' up the plans, we'll be sure to go down in infamy! Try to be a little cheery about it, aye?"

Kris smiles awkwardly, it's clear it doesn't reach all the way up to her cheeks. She doesn't like the idea of living as a pirate. Sure, it's been working out so far, but deep down, she feels she's meant for something...different. Something better. Her memories were still teasing her, and she had to find out what they meant. Something to do with that blue-haired man she saw...

"Chrom!"

The pirates look at her oddly for a bit, before one brave soul manages to speak up. "Huh? Sorry, but I don't see me any Ylissean princes around here..."

Kris looks around, confused, until the realization strikes her that she must have said that out loud. "Umm...nothing, just working on getting acclimated. Want to get all the rulers down to memory, personality traits, that sort of thing, in case we ever do any bigger raids that bring a royal response. Strategies that might work, that kind of thing."

Zanth frowns, and they way his eyes squint make Kris feel that he didn't buy it for a second. "Well, that's certainly dedicated of ye. But right now, it's time for partying! No need to worry about the future when the wine flows, eh lads?!"

Relieved to have pressure off of her, she forces a grin, raising her cup high. "Sorry chief! I'll make sure to celebrate properly!"

Zanth smiles wide. "Yar! Now that's more like it! Drink up, lads!"

Looking down into her drink, she breathes a sigh into the ruby liquid. They...seem to have bought it, and she was safe, at least for the moment. She resolves to begin making a plan to get away from the pirate gang as soon as she could, hopefully with her friend in tow. She knew how unsafe she was among the pirates. Even though they were all smiles now, things could change in an instant.

At that precise moment, an explosion rocks the area.

The pirates freeze at the sound, and they start scanning the area with fear in their eyes. Their hands instinctively go for their weapons, drawing axes or cutlasses.

Another explosion rings through the air, and dark, purple energy is visible through the tree line.

Zanth shouts out, grabbing the pirate's attention. "We're under attack, laddies! Dark magic! The Plegians want our heads for Rubiripe!" The pirate chief grins, murderous intent clear. "Let's take these bastards down!"


End file.
